Second chances
by Hermape
Summary: Voldemort is dead. The war is over, Hermione Granger is back to Hogwarts for her seventh year. She needs this second chance to finish her education. Severus Snape has survived the war, and seizes his second chance at life. But a second chance does not erase one's past…


Hi guys! If you are reading these few words, I hope you like this little story. This is actually my first fanfiction (ever) so please feel free to bring any contribution you like in the review section (I read them all super carefully).

Oh and also, I actually started this story in French. English is not my native language, so please forgive me for any mistake I might (certainly) make.

Hope you enjoy this little introduction ! :)

Summary: Voldemort is dead. The war is over, Hermione Granger is back to Hogwarts for her seventh year. She needs this second chance to finish her education. Severus Snape has survived the war, and seizes his second chance at life. But a second chance does not erase one's past…

Disclaimer: The characters belong to the one and only J. K. Rowling. Only the story is mine.

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**Prologue:**

He kept his eyes desperately shut as he heard them leave the Shrieking Shack hastily. The boy held between his adolescent palms the secrets he spent a lifetime burying deep within his soul, both his worst memories and the little humanity he had left.

He had within his hands his whole past, his darkest past that had been briefly enlightened by two shining emeralds who ended up fading away, just like everything else. He had within his hands all his battles, won at times, lost often. The thought of the Potter prodigy having full access to his intimacy was making him sick, but he knew it was necessary. Critical, even.

As in his thoughts lingered the key for victory. The boy would come to the reality of his inevitable sacrifice. Who will then be powerful enough to take the lead and bring the mad dark wizard to an end, he had no idea. And quite frankly, he barely cared. His part now was over.

He could feel the snake's venom travel through his veins, aching in his whole body, and he could feel the potion fighting its deadly effects. Dumbledore was not mistaken. He never was. « Fool… », he thought sourly.

The end was near. One last moment and he would be free.

He opened his eyes, making sure that the place was now empty, and slowly took his hand to his open neck in an attempt to stop the blood that was leaving his body, or at the very least to slow it down. The three young wizards thought him dead, and it was obvious that this would become a global fact in very little time. Better yet, Voldemort himself didn't bother ensuring that he gave his last breath, delegating the task to his monstrous creature, full of arrogance just like its master, was convinced of being done with him.

But his wasn't just any wizard. He was a Potion Master, and a spy at the service of Albus Dumbledore for the last twenty years. Even gone, Dumbledore was clairvoyant, and a fine strategist, perfectly able to predict his opponent's moves. He never stopped trusting his framed essence, still for everyone but him as he was the one holding the password that was able to breathe a life into the old man.

Following the valuable advice from the one that most considered the most powerful wizard of all times, Severus Snape, day after day, month after month, had conceived the anti-venom potion that was running through his veins. He had modified the ingredients and adjusted the quantities for a whole year, taking advantage of his presence within the walls of Hogwarts to access his laboratories, until obtaining this preventive remedy, this potion so powerful to neutralize all venoms and all poisons one could find in the surface of the earth. He didn't know how long it had been since he has been bitten. He was breathing carefully, but his vision was starting to get blurry. He could feel the senses in his limbs dwindling as the seconds were running by. He wouldn't last long, that he knew. But he refused to lose hope.

« It won't take long », he kept thinking to himself like a litany.

And out of nowhere, he felt something soft stroking the hand he had laying on the floor. From the corner of his eyes, he distinguished a magnificent fire-like plumage, red and gold feathers blazing in the darkness.

« Fawkes », he whispered weakly. « You have kept me waiting. »


End file.
